The Case of the Flirty Girl
by Nemaides
Summary: Hauntings are our business.


**This is a one-shot. Enjoy!**

Two members of the renowned (or, at least, hopefully so) Lockwood & Co. were seated around a table in a cramped, dingy dining room. This was situated in a tiny house painted a pink that blinded the eye. On normal circumstances, Lucy would have stayed away. But she was here on business. Paranormal-activity business.

"Tell me, what did this 'figure' look like?" Lockwood was flipping to a blank page of his notebook.

Fiona Baker, their young client, came out of the kitchen. Her flip-flops smacked loudly against the tiles as she walked toward them, balancing a tray. She set it on the rickety table, sat down, and her heavily-powdered face cracked into a winning smile as she looked Lockwood over. The elegant shirt and tie and his confident smile seemed to be of her approval, because she smiled again.

"Excuse me, what did you say?" Fiona's glasses began sliding down her nose as she unloaded the tray; a blackened pot of tea was set down, and three chipped cups clattered after it. After a brief afterthought, the girl began clumsily pouring the tea.

Lucy sopped up a slosh of tea with her napkin. "What did the ghost look like?"

Fiona didn't even glance in the other girl's direction. Instead, she began handing out the cups and acted as if nothing had been said. When Lockwood graciously reached out a hand to help, the girl blushed gorgeously and flipped her curly brown hair over one shoulder. Lucy, with much difficulty, restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

That very morning, George had received a call from Fiona about paranormal activities occurring in her residence. Lucy and Lockwood had been dispatched later on in the day, after a rather grimy job of disposing of a ghost lurking in the pipework of a ladies' bathroom. And here they were now. Lucy couldn't wait to get out of there—there was just something about this girl that irritated her.

"Well…it was gray," Fiona said musingly at last, toying with her cracking nail polish. The two waited expectantly, but the curly-haired brunette blinked back at them. Lucy couldn't help but think maliciously that Fiona's eye shadow made the girl look like a deranged owl.

At last, Lucy cleared her throat. She raised her eyebrows. "Nothing else? It's not exactly material we can work with."

Lockwood glanced sideways at her. "Calm down, Luce. Let her take her time."

"I _am _calm," Lucy muttered, but she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms anyway.

Fiona's head had been swiveling back and forth between the two—she turned to Lockwood. "Is something wrong? The wench seems…worked up about something."

"_Wench?" _Lucy cried, but Lockwood pressed her firmly back into her seat.

"_Lucy_. . . Nothing, nothing's wrong," Lockwood said cheerily, raising his voice. He took a sip of tea, gagged almost imperceptibly, and quickly put the cup down. One hand fumbled for the mints in his left pants pocket.

"Are there any _other_ descriptions you would use for this disturbance?" Lucy wisely left her tea untouched.

"Gray," Fiona said cattily (Lucy snorted).

"Please, Miss Baker." Lockwood was speaking now. "Is there anything else? It would help."

Fiona brushed back a strand of hair and sighed loudly, quite the damsel in distress. "I'd rather not dwell on it, you know? But if you _really _need the information . . . I must be brave, I suppose . . . well, it was at night, so it was quite dark. I had all the lights off, and when I woke up, it was so dark . . . I could barely see a thing. Just shadows and such. There was this feeling of being _watched, _like there was something staring at me, but I couldn't find it in the darkness. And it was very cold, unbearably so. I...I thought it was the thermostat, so I got out of the bed, and . . . I was overcome by this horrible feeling of dread. It was a terrible, terrible feeling, a terror and panic and _helplessness_ that can't even begin to be described. Then I saw it there, just standing in a gray blur right beside the bed. And I ran . . . It's not something I'd like to experience again," she finished with a shudder.

Lockwood was bent over the notebook, hurriedly scrawling it all down. "What did this gray figure look like, Miss Baker?"

The brunette propped her chin on her palm. "A very tall man, dressed in a gray suit, and the rest was too blurred for me to tell."

More scribbling.

Fiona cleared her throat and smiled persuasively. "Tell me, Lockwood, are you very busy next Saturday? There's this cafe-"

Enough was enough. "We have work on Saturday," Lucy broke in abruptly. She made for the door, swerving past a dumped purse and several umbrella stands. "And we have all the information we need. Thanks, we'll be leaving now."

"Yes, unfortunately we're at work most of the week." Lockwood smiled amiably. "We'll be here tonight, Miss Baker, to do what we can." He snapped his notebook closed, stood up elegantly, and held out his hand to shake Fiona's.

Fiona smiled coyly and released Lockwood's hand with reluctance. "With _you _eradicating that ghost, I know this problem will be solved."

Lucy was watching the scene in disgust from the doorway. She spoke up. "I'll be helping, too. Just so you know. _Lockwood and I_ can do this."

Fiona glared icily at the girl; Lucy stared stonily back. Lockwood was watching the scene in amusement, the side of his mouth quirking up slightly. At last, he butted into the tense moment.

"Well, we'd best be off…"

"Yes, off." Lucy exchanged scowls with the girl before marching outside.

Once they were safely on the sidewalk, standing in the fresh springtime air, Lockwood smiled slightly. "Were you two just fighting over me?"

"_You?" _Lucy scoffed. "As if! Don't be so bigheaded, Lockwood." She whirled around and stormed down the street, Lockwood's laughter trailing after her.


End file.
